With the calm light of evening I pulled into the Stroud station in the Cotswolds where I'd arranged to meet my Italian friend from Arisaig. After we'd been pointed to the right road through the roundabouts, and collected a few things from the store for dinner we made our way up one of the many steep hills and finally arrived at the Airbnb where we were staying. What a welcoming sight the little sitting area, table, tiny kitchen and bedrooms were! After several trains each it was so relaxing to sit down and have a bite to eat.
The days between traveling are always such a pleasure with no trains to catch, and no timelines to follow. After pouring over some of the walking maps after breakfast we decided to take the Cotswolds Way trail north to the little village of Painswick, which is described as the jewel of the Cotswolds. Like the evening before we spent the first part of our walk heading off down a road, then turning around and heading back along a different road to correct our error in direction. We did finally find the right road due entirely to google maps' pinpointing of where we actually were. When we emerged from the canopy of trees over the small country road we were greeted with a beautiful view of the valley around us, though a bit more industrialized than I had imagined.
From there we set off through wheat fields, between rows of tall corn, and over numerous varieties of gates to let walkers through, and keep livestock in. We came upon a giant tree with a hallowed center at the bottom of one of the grassy fields. Though not as big as California's Red Woods it was quite impressive. As we walked though a vineyard my friend decided to take a look at where we were, and low and behold we'd taken the wrong turn onto the Cotswolds Way path and were heading south instead of north! We decided to just keep going though, and do the other part the next day.
There was an enormous variety of scenery along just a small section of this long distance walking path which runs for 100 miles from Chipping Campden south to the famous town of Bath. Before long we were crossing main roads, and heading down the sidewalk, or pavement as it's called here, with the noise of the traffic. Then within 30 minutes of walking we were back to the fields and walking along masses of blackberry bushes. With so much abundance we lingered to collect handfuls of berries to snack on. Some were rather sour, but others very sweet. I have never had such fresh blackberries!
After ascending the path through the woods we emerged on a grassy hill to look over the valley on where we had begun the day. As we walked along the hill it became rather little hills and dips within the hill; a mountain biker's paradise. This area was obviously known as a place to leave short messages in the dips and against the hills with words written in a collection of little stones. The idea seemed to be rather like that of carving names on trees, but I preferred this much more.
My friend had noticed a marking on our ordinance survey (OS) map that denoted the remains of an old church. On the opposite hill we could see an old building, which I thought looked very much like a small castle, but which my friend thought must be the church. So we walked back down into Stroud and started up the other side, but it became apparent when we stopped again to check the OS map and google maps that it was not in the right place, and we were once again going the wrong direction to reach our destination. So off we went back across town and finally found the path that supposedly led to the church. We followed along it for a while, and finally gave up on finding the church when we reached the road on the other side. Just down the road though we spotted a small cemetery, which encircled the remains of the church we'd been looking for. What the OS map didn't tell us was that this little churchyard had once been a Roman villa with the largest mosaic north of the Alps. It had been excavated in the late eighteenth century, and then covered up again to preserve it. Many of the tombstones dated from after this discovery. My question though is how did people decided this spot would make a good cemetery to begin with? Surely they either knew in the early days when the church was built right on top of the old villa, or quickly discovered what lay beneath the soil when they began digging. Whatever their thinking what was left behind was a quiet gem off of the beaten track.
Back in town in the pasta isle of the grocery store my friend carefully considered what type of pasta we'd have for dinner with which sauce. I'm afraid I have no understanding in the slightest about these combinations! What was eventually decided upon was a broccoli, anchovy, and garlic sauce. Despite the very restricted kitchen space I thought the result was a lovely meal.
The next day we walked back up the steep, canopied lane to the hill and took the path north that we'd missed the day before. Though the previous walk had been enjoyable, I think we both found our walk the second day to be even more beautiful. As we walked through a wood of large trees, and gentle green light we came to a natural playground beside the path. Someone had hung a rope from one of the tall branches and tied it to a thick stick below to make a swing. Cautiously I tested it and then let myself fly back and forth beneath the branches.
After the joy of swinging we walked on to where an informational sign gave a brief history and location of the long borrow, and round borrow burial mounds nearby. They cautioned that these many thousand year old landmarks were hard to find. Sure enough though we walked around we could not be absolutely sure that the subtle mounds we found were ancient burial mounds and not a natural feature.
The rest of our walk led us through a vriety of woods, and past vistas of the Cotswolds valleys. Some of the woods felt rather tropical to me with the tall plants growing along the path and beneath the trees, while other parts felt more like an old English wood with only a leaf covered floor. You'll see more photos of me in this section than before as it's much easier when you have someone else with you to take photos.
After a light lunch on the edge of a field we finally came to Painswick. What a jewel it is! Though the name was unknown to me at the time it was what I had come to England to see. There is something that can't be gained by photos, but only by walking through a place in person. The photos of villages I spent hours pouring over through the past many years were never really able to convey what it was like to walk through the narrow streets of a village and turn to look down each road.
In the center of Painswick is the legendary cemetery where 99 yew trees grow, and if a 100th one is planted it is said that it always dies. I must say I have not been in a cemetery quite like this one before with the neatly trimmed yew trees filling much of the space between the weathering stones, giving it something of the characteristic of a garden. There are places where you naturally fall silent, whether out of tradition, or for another reason. Churches seem to be one of these places. Quietly we wandered through the church itself, reading the notes about the different sections built though the years. You can almost count on any church here being first built in the 12th or 13th century. This one was no different.
As we walked back across the fields towards Stroud (we decided to take the shorter and less scenic route back) we played a game of guessing characters, really people and fictional, rather like 20 questions, but without a limit on the number of questions you get. It's quite interesting to give considerable thought to the people that are known across countries.
The next morning dawned rather grey as we packed up. By the time we reached Avebury where we were to part ways it had begun to rain, which I would see for almost the next week straight. After a short walk around the ancient standing stones, and a tour of the museum we went for a warm lunch at the Red Lion Inn, which claims to be the only restaurant inside a circle of stones. For the next half hour we waited for the incredibly late bus with a huddle of other wet people beneath the thatched roof of the inn. Eventually my friend's bus arrived, and not long after mine. My time in the rain for the day was far from over though!
